


The Doctor and John Smith

by RishiDiams



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Gen, Original Character(s), POV First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RishiDiams/pseuds/RishiDiams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So many of the Rose-as-the-Doctor stories are simply retellings of the DW episodes with gender role reversals. I wanted to go in a completely different direction. The premise for the story and a few of the conversations were taken from Doomslock's brilliant <a href="http://doomslock.tumblr.com/tagged/pipersmith/chrono">gifsets</a> on Tumblr. However, I do not have a voice for Eleven, so my John Smith is Ten.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. John

**Author's Note:**

> So many of the Rose-as-the-Doctor stories are simply retellings of the DW episodes with gender role reversals. I wanted to go in a completely different direction. The premise for the story and a few of the conversations were taken from Doomslock's brilliant [gifsets](http://doomslock.tumblr.com/tagged/pipersmith/chrono) on Tumblr. However, I do not have a voice for Eleven, so my John Smith is Ten.

"Can I help you with that?" I called to the woman's back. She was standing at the top of the stairs, bent over the lock, her shoulders hunched in concentration. I couldn't see her face from where I stood on the street, but she was petite, fit, with honey-blonde hair that hung loose to just below her shoulders. It was a fairly warm evening, so I was surprised to see the hood of a hoodie sticking out from inside the blue leather jacket she wore.  
  
She turned and looked me up and down and I took the moment to study her as well. She was a few years younger than me, with bright fathomless eyes, a pert nose, and a generous mouth.   
  
"I dunno," she replied cautiously. "You have experience breaking and entering?"   
  
I straightened my shoulders and tweaked my tie. "I consider myself a jack-of-all-trades."   
  
Amusement blossomed in her eyes and a tongue-touched smile appeared on her lips. "How do I know you won't just call the police?"   
  
"Well, if I was going to call them, I wouldn't exactly have offered to help, now would I? Besides, you don't look much like a burglar. I figure there must be a reason you need to be in that house, so I might as well give you a hand."   
  
She looked over her shoulder at the door she'd been trying to jimmy open. "Do you know whose house it is?"   
  
"No," I replied moving closer to her until I stood at the base of the four steps which led up to the door. "I've lived in this neighborhood my whole life and I've never seen anyone go in or out." The house was at least a century old, and in remarkably good condition considering.   
  
"Well, that's good at least." She turned back to me and offered her hand. "All right. What's your name, then?"   
  
"John. John Smith."   
  
She raised one carefully sculpted eyebrow, "You're kidding."   
  
I placed a hand over my heart. "On my honor."   
  
"Well, in that case, hello there, John Smith. My name's the Doctor. And I guess this makes us partners in crime."   
  
"The Doctor?" I closed the distance between us and shook her hand, no longer wondering about the layers she was wearing; her hand was freezing.   
  
"That's me."  
  
"What kind of name is 'The Doctor'?"  
  
"What kind of name is 'John Smith'?" she shot back.  
  
"At least it's a proper name. The Doctor is a title, it's the middle-aged bloke in the white lab coat Granddad sees about his bunions."  
  
Her eyes raked over me once from head to toe. "The first thing we need to do," she said deliberately, turning back to the door, "is find a way in."   
  
"Well, I don't think you're going to have much luck here." I reached around her to jiggle the latch. "The door's solid English Oak, and that's a pretty secure lock."   
  
She seemed even smaller up close than she had from a few feet away, but the set of her shoulders and the muscular legs encased in her tight jeans spoke of a strength that went far beyond physical size. She looked up at me over her shoulder, the tongue-touched smile making another appearance, and I was suddenly tongue-tied.   
  
She smelled of warm summer nights gazing at the stars and, oddly, chips. Her skin fairly glowed it was so healthy and her lips were the exact shade of a peach, but she wore no makeup that I could discern. I was transfixed by those lips, by the tiny hint of pink tongue sticking out from between pearl-white teeth. Our bodies weren't touching, but my nerves had somehow stretched beyond my own skin to sense her a few inches away. So I knew that she would fit comfortably against me, her softness yielding to the hard angles of my own body perfectly.   
  
Her eyes dropped to my mouth and I knew, as crazy as it sounded, that I was about to kiss this strange burglar I'd known a total of five minutes.   
  
I leaned forward - and was met by the back of her head when she turned quickly away. "This would be easier if I still had my sonic," she muttered to herself.   
  
The rejection stung, but I inhaled deeply and increased the distance between us. It had been a daft notion, ill-timed and premature at best.   
  
"What's a sonic?"   
  
"My screwdriver. It was... damaged recently, and I haven't had a chance to replace it yet."   
  
I looked down at the lock again. "You're going to need more than a screwdriver to get that door open."   
  
"It was sonic. I said that." Clapping her hands together, she moved away from the door, moving past me and down the stairs carefully so that our bodies never touched. "Oh well, no sense focusing on things that can't help us." She gestured to the right of the house. "I'll go this way. You go to the left. First one to find a way in opens the door for the other."   
  
It was a solid plan, but as we went our separate ways, I couldn't believe that I was actually going through with it. Though I'd grown up perpetuating the myths that had surrounded the house for longer than I'd been alive, I was never one of the children who had attempted to enter it. As far as I knew, none of them had ever been successful.   
  
It was not a large house, roughly the same size as mine, and I fully expected to meet this strange woman in the back garden, both of us having found nothing. But a moment later I was standing beside a surprisingly sturdy-looking collection of boxes and debris. I could do it, I reasoned, I was tall enough that if I stood on the topmost box, I could reach the roof. It was daft, of course.  
  
I surprised myself by hopping up on the lowest box and levering myself onto the next one. The third was a small step up, the fourth required a bit of fancy angling which included the nearby wall. When I finally stood on the fifth box, most of my torso was above the level of the roof. It was mostly flat save for a large chimney dominating the front right corner. A glance down at the ground reminded me that I was basically standing on a pile of trash, which could be prone to collapse at any moment. Leaning forward, I pressed my weight against the rooftop and lifted myself up.   
  
The chimney, when I inspected it, was devoid of any of the trappings usually put in place to keep the weather, birds, or other small animals out. I could fit, I decided. "Doctor?" I called over the edge of the roof where she should have been. "I think I've found a way in." But there was no response. I checked all four sides, but couldn't find her.  
  
The idea that she had abandoned me never crossed my mind; neither did the fact that I was wearing my best three piece suit. All I could think of was that the Doctor needed to get into the house, and I had found a way in. About halfway down, once the fading daylight was far enough out of my reach that I had no hope of climbing back up and the bricks began to feel like they were closing in on me, was the first time it occurred to me that I might get stuck. But I pressed on, slowly making my way by pressing my back against one side and my arms and legs against the other.  
  
Gradually the chimney began to widen past the point where even my long arms and legs were of any use to me and I tumbled the final few feet to land in an enormous fireplace. I stood up and brushed the soot from my jacket, filled with the exhilaration of adventure and triumph. When the smoke started to clear I glanced around the room - I'd arrived in the lounge - and straight into the amused eyes of the Doctor.  
  
She came forward and grabbed my arm to steady me. "John, when I said that we should split up and look for a way in, I meant a door or a window, not a chimney!"   
  
"Well, you should have been more specific!"   
  
"You're lucky you're so skinny, or else you would have gotten stuck in there."   
  
"How did you get in?"  
  
"Window."  
  
"Window. That's nice. It's no chimney, of course," I said, looking down at her.  
  
She laughed. "No, you definitely get bonus marks for style."  
  
An ominous clatter from another part of the house put an end to the playful banter. "What was that? I thought this house was abandoned."  
  
The Doctor was staring off in the distance as though listening for something. "I don't think this house has been abandoned for a long time, John."  
  
"What's --" I was silenced abruptly by the feeling of her cool fingers landing unerringly on my lips. She turned to face me, mimicking the gesture on her own lips to indicate that I should be quiet. I nodded that I understood and her fingers fell away.  
  
She pointed at the door and began creeping towards it without waiting to see if I would follow. I did, glancing around the lounge while thinking words like  _surveillance_  and  _clearing the room_  that I'd learned watching police dramas on telly. The lounge was devoid of furniture, and the soot I'd dislodged from the chimney had settled in a roughly circular pattern on the floor around where we'd been standing.  
  
The Doctor arrived at the door to the lounge and poked her head into the hallway, looking left and right before stepping out of the room and going right. I repeated her actions, noting that the main entryway was to the left. She slowed at each doorway she came to and cautiously peeked inside, and I did the same. In this manner we passed a library, a sitting room, a small bedroom, and a toilet. They were all empty. At one of the last doors, the Doctor stopped after looking inside, her hand outstretched behind her for me to stop as well.  
  
I couldn't see her face, but her whole body had tensed. She cocked her head to one side to listen, eventually gesturing for me to come forward to look at whatever it was we'd happened upon. Carefully, I walked up beside her and looked over her shoulder to the room beyond.   
  
From the light fixtures and the prominent placement of an antique-looking table, I assumed that we'd found the dining room. But it was crowded from wall to wall with all of the furniture from the rest of the house, each individual room recreated in a different corner. Moving around the room was what looked like a large wooden doll. I was tall, just over six feet, and this thing towered over me in much the same way I towered over the Doctor.   
  
It moved stiffly, and as I watched, it walked to the makeshift bedroom in the far corner and 'woke up' a smaller doll, assisting it as they walked together to the dining room table and were seated. The two dolls then began miming eating a meal. The other large doll sat in a chair staring straight ahead with eyes that never blinked.  
  
I straightened, but stayed by the Doctor's side. "What are those?" I hissed.  
  
"They're people," she replied levelly, her voice a terse whisper, "or at least they were at one time. Now they're exactly what they look like: dolls. They're not the cause of this, they're the victims, but they'll try to stop us if they see us. So be careful. And John," she added, looking over her shoulder at me, "don't let them touch your skin."  
  
I struggled to assimilate all of this, questions burning in my mind that I knew it was not the time to ask. These creatures were unlike anything I had ever heard of, but the Doctor seemed unfazed. Nodding, I pushed the curiosity and the uncertainty aside, and saw the Doctor's estimation of me go up a notch.  
  
"What are they doing?" was the only question I allowed myself to ask.  
  
"They're playing house," she replied before peeking into the room again and hurrying across the open doorway.   
  
Of course they were, what else would dolls do? I followed her after making sure that none of the dolls were looking at the doorway.  
  
"Have there been any strange disappearances around the neighborhood over the years? A slightly higher number of runaways, perhaps?" she whispered when I joined her on the other side.  
  
There'd been one boy a few years younger than me who had disappeared in his seventh year. The police had deemed him a runaway, but the parents had been convinced he'd been abducted. He'd never been found. I told the Doctor about him, but he was the only one I could distinctly remember.   
  
"Only one? Well, that's good at least," was her only reply before she continued down the hallway.  
  
We found the kitchen like the rest of the house, empty, leaving only one door unchecked. It was also closed.  
  
"We've been lucky so far," she said, "but if my suspicions are correct, when I open this door we're not going to be able to skulk around anymore. Those dolls are going to know we're here. If something happens to me I want you to run, get out and don't look back."  
  
"Doctor, what --"  
  
"Did you hear me, John Smith?" she said, her voice harder than I had heard it yet.  
  
"Yes, Doctor, I heard you. Get out. Don't look back."  
  
Satisfied, she reached out and turned the doorknob.   
  
We'd reached the master bedroom. A double bed was pushed against the center of the far wall, but the room was just as crowded as the dining room had been. Three more of the dolls were here, but they stopped moving as soon as the door opened.  
  
"My name is the Doctor," she said, her voice carrying throughout the house. "And you will identify your place of origin and species designation as set down by the Shadow Proclamation."  
  
For a moment nothing happened, and then all of the dolls lurched in our direction at once.  
  
"Identify your place of origin and species designation," she said again, her voice as sharp as the blade of a knife.   
  
The dolls lurched even closer, and a noise behind me revealed that the ones from the dining room were headed our way as well.  
  
"Doctor..." I warned. We were at the end of the hallway; the only possible exit was the kitchen door, which would soon be blocked by dolls.  
  
"I invoke Convention 15 of the Shadow Proclamation. I only want to talk." But there was no response. "I'm giving you one last chance, identify your --"  
  
"Krun," croaked a voice and the dolls ground to a halt. "Telmun VII, Benghe Cluster."  
  
"Thank you," the Doctor replied sweetly. "Benghe Cluster," she whistled, impressed, "you're a long way from home. I'd ask what you're doing here, but I've got a pretty good idea. However, there's just one problem. These people are under my protection and you have taken them against their will. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."  
  
"Or what? You'll contact the Shadow Proclamation? I do not fear them."  
  
"No," the Doctor said, drawing herself up to her full height. "I'll stop you myself."  
  
A low rumbling chuckle filled the air. "I do not fear you either, little physician."  
  
The dolls took another step forward.   
  
"Funny thing about Krun and their toys," she said, almost absently, as she pulled a small bottle out of the inside breast pocket of her jacket, "they don't react so well to Urlan oil."  
  
"You wouldn't."  
  
"I'm giving you one last chance. Remove yourself from this planet. I'll even let you keep your toys."  
  
After a brief consideration the voice gave her its answer: "I think not."  
  
The doll closest to the Doctor cocked its head then reached out with a speed I'd thought them incapable of and grabbed the Doctor's arm. "Doctor!" I cried out as she struggled to release herself from the doll's grip.  
  
"John, remember your promise," the Doctor said, raising the bottle above her head to throw it.   
  
But I was already moving. Wrapping my right arm around the Doctor's waist, I slid behind her to slam my left shoulder into the doll. The jolt broke the doll's grip on the Doctor and I was able to pull her back with me a step when I recoiled from the hit.   
  
The doll recovered quickly, but the ones behind us had not yet slowed. "If we're going to get out of here, Doctor, I suggest you use that stuff soon."  
  
"You've brought this upon yourself," she muttered, then threw the bottle into the master bedroom, where it exploded in a blast of blue fire.  
  
An inhuman cry of rage and pain filled the air, but the Doctor wordlessly slipped her cool hand into my own as she started back down the hallway.   
  
The three dolls from the dining room were waiting there for us, blocking our escape.  
  
"These are newer," she said, and I finally looked at them well enough to see that their clothes was of a more recent era than the one in the bedroom doorway, but I couldn't see what difference it made.  
  
"Doctor, that fire - this is an old house, all this wood, we'll be burnt alive."  
  
"That's a special kind of fire, John, it only burns certain things. All we have to do is wait it out."  
  
The dining room doll that was closest to us cocked its head just like the one from the bedroom had and pressed forward, closing the distance between us.   
  
"Krun collect sentient beings and slowly siphon off their life energy while using them as playthings," the Doctor said as though she was reciting from a textbook, her voice slowly building in intensity. "They can live hundreds of years off of the energy from just one human being. But they're solitary creatures so I know there's not another one hiding around here. And right now," she shouted at the nearest doll, "your master is burning!"  
  
The doll's arm shot out, reaching for the Doctor, and all I could think about was protecting her. I pulled her behind me and put out my own hand to block the doll.  
  
"John, no!"  
  
The doll's hand closed around my own.  
  
The pain was unbearable. I don't know how I managed to remain standing. I'm sure I screamed. Imagine every bone in your hand shattering at once and then reforming into something else. My fingers fused together in a slight curve, my thumb straightened opposite them. We stood that way, in an unnatural handshake, for several seconds before the doll's grip slackened and what passed for consciousness fell away from its eyes.  
  
Another several seconds passed before the Doctor moved out from behind me. She reached out to tap on the doll's chest and I bought up my other hand, my  _left_  hand to stop her. "Don't."  
  
"It's okay, John. The Krun doesn't have control over it anymore. It's just wood now."  
  
Those words echoed in my head,  _just wood now._    
  
With a tap, she sent the doll falling backwards where it landed on the floor with a clatter. Some part of my brain acknowledged two additional similar noises, but I was focused on what remained of my hand. There were lines delineating each finger, but my knuckles and fingernails had disappeared. The pain had stopped, but the nerves bordering the change all itched with wrongness. The change had started just below my thumb, so I could still move my wrist normally. That was something at least. I rapped on it with my left hand.  _thunk thunk thunk_   _Just wood now._    
  
I was going to have to learn how to write all over again. I was going to have to learn how to do everything all over again. And explaining what had happened was going to be complicated.  
  
An already familiar cool hand closed gently around my left hand. I looked down into the Doctor's understanding gaze. "Come with me, John."  
  
I followed her mutely past the three dolls from the dining room. She'd moved them all to one side of the hallway while I'd been distracted. When we got to the front of the house, she pulled me into the lounge. "Let me take a look at that."  
  
The sun had set after we'd entered the house, but the moon was shining brightly and, with its large high windows, the lounge was arguably the best-lit room in the house at the moment.   
  
The Doctor took my right arm and followed it down to my wooden fingers. "John Smith," she sighed as she turned my hand back and forth, "what am I going to do with you?"  
  
"I'm considering a career as a termite inspector."  
  
She looked up at me, a huge grin on her face. It was there only briefly, though, slipping away again when she returned her attention to my hand. "I am so sorry."  
  
And that's when I knew that this was permanent, that there was nothing she could do to return my fingers to normal. I didn't even realize that I'd held onto that hope until it died, leaving me hollow. "It's not your fault," I said, because I wanted her to know that I didn't blame her.  
  
"No, it's not," she agreed. "I told you to run and I told you not to let them touch your skin. But you had to go all noble on me there at the end. I owe you for that."  
  
"Don't --" I started, but she silenced me by pulling another vial out of her pocket.  
  
She offered it to me. "I'm not saying it's not going to hurt, because it will. It's your choice, John."  
  
"Choice?"  
  
"To take it or not. To put your hand back to normal," she added when I blinked at her, uncomprehending. Her eyes bulged a bit. "You didn't think I was going to leave you like this?"  
  
"I -- you said you were sorry!"  
  
"I am sorry, not cruel." She waved the vial at me. "The sooner the better."  
  
I nodded and reached for it. The Doctor uncapped it and placed it in my hand. I bought it to my lips.  
  
It hurt. Every nerve ending was on fire and, with the one part of my brain that wasn't busy processing pain, I realized she'd given me a vial of the same stuff she'd thrown at the Krun. Pure, cool, blue fire. I fell to my knees. And then I swallowed.  
  
And screamed. Blessedly, I passed out.  
  
I came to sometime later, my head pillowed on something soft that it took me a moment to identify as the Doctor's lap. She was idly playing with the fingers of my right hand, her cool digits lightly dancing between mine. That took several seconds to process as well, but once it did tears welled in my eyes.  
  
I closed my hand around hers.  
  
"Welcome back."  
  
"How long was I out?"  
  
"About twenty minutes."  
  
I moved to sit up, but she placed her other hand on my shoulder to hold me in place. "Patience. There's no rush."  
  
But those few seconds had spoken eloquently enough. The vertigo that slight movement had caused showed no signs of abating. I couldn't have moved again if I tried.  
  
Slowly, my head stopped spinning and I was finally able to sit up. "All right?" she asked, one hand still on my shoulder, showing concern and offering support, the other still nestled in mine, an offer of comfort and strength.  
  
I nodded. "Yeah," I creaked.  
  
"In your own time."  
  
She sat with me patiently, her hand eventually falling away from my shoulder, but she never showed any sign of wanting to move other one.   
  
"You said those things used to be people," I said after we'd sat that way for a while.  
  
"I did."  
  
"You think Tommy was one of them?"  
  
She nodded. "The smallest one. The clothes were right for the time period you described. I'm sorry."  
  
"Could you have helped him?" I wiggled my fingers against the back of her hand to elaborate.  
  
"No. He was too far gone. There wasn't anything human of him left to save."  
  
I took a minute to let this sink in. "But we stopped it, right? It won't be able to take any others?"  
  
"We stopped it," she agreed.  
  
"Good."  
  
I loosened my grip on her hand and she pulled it away. I stood by placing both of my hands flat on the floor and turning to get my knees underneath me. It was a long process to accomplish something I usually took for granted, but after I was steady on my knees, I was able to place one foot and then the other on the ground. Then, at last, I stood.  
  
I looked down at the Doctor and offered her a weak smile.   
  
"Come on, then. Let's get you home, John Smith."   
  
She was stronger than she looked, I realized, as she shifted herself under my arm to support me. She was also comfortable pressed against me, just as I'd imagined she would be, and I was once again struck by the completely inappropriate desire to kiss her.   
  
She'd just saved my hand, my life, and, arguably, the lives of everyone in the neighborhood. Didn't the hero sometimes receive a kiss in payment? And, oh, didn't that sound like something a love-sick schoolboy would think up? I was nearly 31 years old, not 13; I had to get the idea of kissing this woman out of my head. I didn't even know her real name, for crying out loud, and the things I'd just witnessed would be enough to put most people in therapy. And I was probably still in shock from the fire that had cured my hand.   
  
We reached the front door and the knob turned easily in her hand, whatever enchantment that had kept it sealed all these years having already faded away. I kept expecting it to slam shut in our faces like something out of a horror movie where the survivors only think they're going to get away, but a moment later we were standing on the moonlit street. "You said you live near here?"   
  
"Yeah," I nodded in the direction. "A few houses that way."   
  
"For someone so skinny, you're heavier than you look," she said as we began walking.   
  
"Oh my God," I said, pulling away from her to stand on my own. I was almost a head taller than she was, and a good two and a half stone heavier, but here I was leaning on her for support. "I am so sorry. After everything you've done --"   
  
"Shut up," she interrupted, and I was embarrassed by how easily I capitulated when she pulled me back to her. "I was just making conversation. I could support two of you if I had to."   
  
She didn't try to make any more conversation after that and by the time we reached my house I missed the sound of her chatter. "There you go," she said as she eased me through the doorway. "Home safe and sound. You have yourself a nice hot shower, John Smith, and you'll be right as rain in the morning. Thank you," she added almost as an afterthought, "for your help tonight."   
  
"Doctor, wait," I called after her when she turned to leave. "You could come in. I have tea."   
  
"I wouldn't want to intrude."   
  
I looked to either side of me at the empty foyer. "There's nothing to intrude on. It's just me."   
  
"You mean there's no Mrs. Smith wondering what's kept you out this late?"   
  
As I fumbled for a witty retort, she spoke again, but her light teasing tone of only seconds earlier had vanished.   
  
"I'm sorry. Is that a sore subject? I didn't mean to offend."   
  
"No! No, it's fine. There's never been... I mean, I've never married."   
  
"Good-looking bloke like you? Surely you have a sweetheart."   
  
My heart skipped a beat, she thought I was good-looking? I shook my head. "I'm usually much too busy looking through my Granddad's old telescope to see the things that are right in front of my nose."   
  
"You're young yet," she replied. "It's far too soon for you to be using words like 'never'."   
  
"Young? I'm older than you."   
  
Her lips formed a polite smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Good night, John Smith," she said, extending her hand between us.   
  
Terrified I'd just insulted her, I tried again. "Come in, please," I said, ignoring her hand. "It's just tea. I'll be a perfect gentleman."   
  
She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at something that lay beyond the houses of my neighborhood.   
  
"Is there a Mr. Doctor out there wondering what's keeping you out so late?" I asked gently.   
  
She was smiling when she turned back to me, genuinely this time, but not the tongue-touched smile from earlier.   
  
"No, John, there's not."   
  
"Then there's no harm, is there?"   
  
I saw the tiny shift in her eyes that indicated I'd finally convinced her. "All right," she said, and took a step into the house.   
  
It was a small victory, but I was grinning like an idiot as I lead her to the kitchen and got her seated at my table.   
  
"Umm, John?" she said as I moved around the room taking out mugs and -- "John?" -- tea and sugar -- where was the nice sugar pot? "John," she said again, firmly, and I stopped my frantic searching to look at her. She was no longer sitting where I'd put her, but standing. "I'll make the tea. You go shower."   
  
I looked down at myself to see that I was still covered in soot. After everything that had happened, I'd forgotten all about the soot. "Oh. Yeah, I suppose I should. But you don't know where anything is," I argued, because I couldn't say  _will you disappear if I take my eyes off of you?_  
  
"I'm very handy. I'll take care of it."  _I'll be here_ , her eyes said.   
  
"Doctor --" I started, but stopped before I could make a fool of myself.  _Thank you_ , I wanted to say. And  _Please_. And a thousand other things I had no business wanting after such a brief acquaintance.  
  
She was so many amazing things rolled into one: adventure, compassion, strength, beauty, with an aura surrounding her that spoke of ancient knowledge. I was just John Smith, menial laborer extraordinaire, so boring that my parents couldn't even think up an interesting name for me. "I'll be just a mo'," I said instead.  
  
She gave me a small nod and I hurried from the room.  
  
I was unbuttoning buttons and loosening my tie before I even reached my bedroom door, leaving a trail of filthy clothes behind me in the few feet leading up to my en suite as I stripped off the layers of my suit. I could take care of the mess later; I didn't want to leave her alone a moment longer than I had to.  
  
I hopped into the shower, unable to remember where I'd been coming from when I'd happened upon her, probably another fruitless interview. The water was frigid and I may have yelped in an entirely masculine fashion when the spray first hit me, but it was just another thing I didn't have time to wait for.   
  
I washed in record time, hurrying back into the bedroom when I was done to throw on some clothes. The pieces of my dirty suit were offensive now in the otherwise clean room and if - oh, please - the Doctor had cause to enter my bedroom tonight I didn't want that to be the first thing she saw. Gathering them up, I shoved them into the dirty laundry to deal with them later.   
  
A quick glance in the mirror revealed an unremarkable John Smith, a skinny, 30 year old, jack-of-all-trades, master of none. I'd long ago gotten over the pain of the accident which had claimed the lives of my parents and sister, cutting short the first year I was supposed to be studying for my A-levels. I'd never gone back to finish the qualification, and though my granddad had warned me I'd eventually regret it I'd hardly given it another thought. The Doctor was brilliant, I'd seen that, and a tiny niggling worry began to form that a brilliant, beautiful doctor might look down on a bloke with no A-levels.  
  
My only redeeming quality was my hair, which I usually arranged in a complicated style meant to evoke thoughts of casual disregard and the attention of a lover's fingers, but even my hair seemed heavy with its own weight, laying boring and flat against my head, and I didn't feel as though I had the time to devote to it that I would usually spend. Slinging a flannel around my neck, I did the best I could to dry my hair as I walked back to the kitchen and the woman who waited there.  
  
But there was absolutely no sound coming from the kitchen.  
  
My heart thudding in my chest, I rounded the corner, certain she'd snuck out while I was in the shower. But the Doctor was sitting at my table quietly sipping at a mug of steaming tea. Her golden eyes met mine then drifted to the flannel wrapped around my neck, my t-shirt clinging wetly to my body in the places I'd not bothered to fully dry myself, the jeans I'd tossed on. She'd taken off her jacket and unzipped the pale pink hoodie to expose a bright pink t-shirt beneath. Pink. I wouldn't have thought. The feminine color added a rosy glow to her cheeks. Though I had a flare of hope that the blush staining her cheeks had more to do with me than the pink shirt.  
  
"Hello again," I said, trying to sound as though my heart wasn't racing like a rabbit's. I casually picked up one end of the flannel and rubbed it vigorously over my hair again.  
  
"Hello," she replied, inclining her head at the teapot. "The tea's ready."  
  
"I see that. Thank you."  
  
"I didn't know how you take it," she said as I walked up to where she'd left my mug on the counter and added two sugars.  
  
When I was done I turned and leaned against the counter as I blew gently over the top of the mug to cool the tea.   
  
"How are you?" she asked.  
  
I took inventory. I felt surprisingly good, like a million wonderful possibilities had suddenly opened up, and it had everything to do with the woman sitting at my kitchen table. "I'm good. Really good."  
  
"None the worse for your little adventure down the chimney, then?"  
  
I chuckled around a mouthful of hot tea. "No, though I'm not sure I would volunteer to do that again."  
  
"Maybe you were a chimney sweep in a previous life?" she laughed.  
  
"Maybe so." I liked the way she laughed, completely and unapologetically.   
  
"And the other thing?"  
  
It was the first mention either of us had made to what had happened inside that house. I flexed the fingers of my right hand where she could see. "Fine. Back to normal."  
  
"Good. I'm glad to hear that."  
  
"I don't think I thanked you properly."  
  
A tiny smile. "Not necessary. All in a day's work."  
  
Something in her demeanor warned me that I shouldn't push the issue. "So," I said instead, " _Doctor_ , your parents didn't have high expectations for you at all, did they?"  
  
She giggled, the noise so tiny and feminine that I didn't believe at first that it had come from her. "It's not the name my parents gave me."   
  
"Really?" I said, feigning surprise. "I never would have guessed."   
  
She pulled a face, but said nothing.   
  
"Will you tell me your real name?"  
  
I knew I'd stepped over a line when she frowned. "Names have power, John Smith," she said quietly. "Some names more so than others." She lifted her mug, but it never made it to her lips as her frown deepened. "I can't do this," she spat, putting the mug down as she abruptly stood. "I can't sit here and pretend like this."  
  
Confused, I followed her motions as she grabbed her jacket and headed for the foyer.   
  
Just before I would have lost sight of her she turned back to me. "I'm not like you, John. I'm not just some girl --"   
  
"No, you're not," I interrupted, infusing my voice with as much steel as I could muster. If I was going to lose her before I even had a chance with her, I was going to lay all of my cards on the table. "Look, I'm sorry about the name thing. If you want me to call you Doctor I'll call you Doctor. In fact, pick a noun: Teapot, Car, Rose - anything. Just don't go. You're wonderful and brilliant and a host of other things I could never be. You see monsters like the Krun and you don't even blink, you just jump right in and make things right. I wouldn't have done that, I would have run. I almost did. But with you by my side I felt for the first time in my life like I could do something, I could make a difference in this world. I don't want to lose that."  
  
She took a step closer, her voice softening. "You don't give yourself nearly enough credit. You were brilliant tonight, John, a hero. I'm not sure I could have gotten out of there without you."   
  
"Then I don't understand. Why can't you stay? What do you mean by 'pretend'?" But a sick feeling in my stomach told me exactly what she meant. "You lied," I said flatly, answering my own question. "There is someone else." I ran a hand through my hair, tugging on it hard enough to hurt in the hope that the pain would override the burning ache in my chest. "I am so stupid. Of course there's someone else."  
  
"There's no one else, John. It's... infinitely more complicated than that. I'm not like you," she said again, though it made no more sense than it had the first time.  
  
"If you're not like me, then what are you like?"  
  
"I'm a Time Lord."  
  
"That sounds fancy," I replied, my voice filled with sarcasm at the nonsensical term. "Does that come with a seat in Lords?"  
  
She snorted, honest to God snorted, and her tongue peeked out from between her teeth again. "I could show you," she said, suddenly playful. "One quick trip as a thank you for all of your help tonight. You said you like to look at the stars, John. What would you say if I told you I could show them to you? And not just through your granddad's telescope, but up close. To walk on an alien planet, breathe alien air."  
  
If I was being honest with myself, my initial reaction would be to wonder if she should be sectioned. But after what I'd seen tonight, maybe she really could do those things. "You have a spaceship?"  
  
"I do," she said proudly, rocking back slightly on her heels. "Best ship in the universe."  
  
I took another sip of my tea, considering the proposal. If she was mad, nothing would come of it and at least I'd know before whatever this was between us went any further, but if, by some miracle, she was telling the truth, how could I possibly say no? "All right, then. Let's see this ship of yours."  
  
"Brilliant!" She stretched her hand between us, wiggling her fingers at me until I closed my hand around them. Her eyes twinkled. "Allons-y, John Smith."   
  
And then she took off, barely giving me a chance to find my shoes and lock the door behind us. She lead me to the edge of the neighborhood, where an abandoned garage still stood long after the house it had been attached to had burned to the ground. She let herself in, still pulling me behind her.  
  
The interior of the garage had long been stripped of anything useful, and though I expected it to take a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I found they didn't have to. Standing like a monolith in the center of the garage was a tall blue box with warm lights glowing from a series of windows around the top. Painted into the wood above the windows were the words Police Box.  
  
The Doctor dropped my hand and approached the box, stroking the side of it affectionately. "Hello, old girl, I've brought along a friend."  
  
I felt a tiny pulse in my mind in response to her words, and had she not reacted, I would have believed that I imagined it. But instead, her face lit up as she looked between me and the strange box. "She likes you!"  
  
"What is it?" I asked, coming forward to touch it in much the same way the Doctor had.  
  
"It's my ship." She was fumbling at her neck for something and as I watched she pulled out a necklace with a key and unlocked the door. "Isn't she lovely?"  
  
"Well, actually, when you said you had a spaceship, I expected something a little more sci-fi."  
  
Her lips quirked as she pushed open the door and then stepped out of the way to let me in. The interior was everything that the exterior was not: faintly glowing green walls, sweeping walkways, alien-looking columns, and a center console filled with all manner of buttons, knobs, levers, latches, and switches. From this first room two corridors branched off - "It's bigger on the inside!" I exclaimed.  
  
I turned at the sound of her chuckling behind me. "That never gets old," she said as she closed the door behind her then joined me in the middle of the room. She leaned against the center console, arms folded across her chest, expectation flowing off of her in waves.  
  
I could almost hear my granddad's voice in my head,  _"There's something she wants you to figure out on your own. You're smart, Johnny-boy, so go ahead and show her that you are."_  
  
"This ship --"  
  
"The TARDIS," she corrected. "T-A-R-D-I-S. Stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space."  
  
"TARDIS," I repeated and once again felt that tiny pulse inside of my mind.  
  
Her lips quirked again and she shook her head as though amused at something.  
  
"The TARDIS is not of Human design."  
  
I was rewarded with that tongue-touched smile again. "Go on."  
  
"When you said Time Lord, that wasn't just a title, was it? You're not human."  
  
"Is that a problem?"  
  
"Unless you're a body snatcher who took over the Doctor while I was in the shower, no, I don't think so."  
  
"Fantastic!" The Doctor began to move, starting slowly by flicking a few switches near her hip, but building quickly in intensity as she twirled around the center console occasionally slapping a button or stopping only long enough to type something complicated into a dangling keyboard. "Where would you like to go, John Smith? Anywhere, anywhen."  
  
"Anywhen?"  
  
"That's right. This baby also travels in  _time_." The whole ship lurched when she pulled a lever and I found myself scrambling for something to hold on to.  
  
For the first 30 years of my life nothing happened. Nothing at all. Not ever. And then I met a woman called the Doctor. She took me away from home in her magical machine and showed me the whole of time and space.


	2. New Earth

"So, where to, John Smith?" she said to me once the ship had leveled out.

"I dunno. I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Is there something in particular you'd like to see, perhaps? An alien vista? Purple seas lapping against orange beaches? A planet with three suns? Or maybe aliens? A race of sentient grasshoppers taller than you? A colony of space whales?" She studied my face looking for a spark of interest. "A specific event in Human history? The height of the Third Great and Bountiful Empire? The founding of New New York? The --"

"That one," I said, not because it sounded any more interesting than any of the others, but because it was familiar. Some space and time traveler I was.

She considered me for a moment, entered something using the strange keyboard, and then straightened. "All right. That's done. You go down that corridor there," she gestured, "and pick out a room, and we'll arrive in the morning."

"You're going to take me to an alien planet and it's only going to take one night to get there?"

That beaming pride she had for her ship manifested itself again. "I could take you to an alien planet in five minutes, John Smith. But the fact is that you've been through a lot tonight and you Humans need your rest. I'd like you to be awake enough to enjoy the planet we're going to be visiting."

"I'm fine. I'm not tired at all," I protested, receiving a patient, indulgent smile for my trouble.

"Since you've come aboard you've yawned eight times, increasing in both duration and frequency. The adrenaline rush you experienced during our encounter with the Krun has started to wear off and you'll be dead on your feet inside of twenty minutes."

As if to prove her point, my traitorous body yawned.

She smirked. "Nine times. That corridor there, just open the first door you get to that feels right."

There were two doors immediately inside of the corridor, but something about them screamed _cupboard_ so I kept walking. The third door I'd almost passed before I even realized it was there, but it felt wrong to me so I continued on. The corridor had begun to gently slope to the left and the next door I came to welcomed me.

The room was similar to my bedroom at home, a double bed, wardrobe, and nightstand all done up in a nice cherry wood. There was plush carpeting, cream colored, and the sheets and duvet were a deep blue, nearly the color of the TARDIS itself.

I kicked off my trainers and shucked my jeans, falling into bed with hardly a second thought. I don't remember touching the sheets.

I awoke later with the certainty that I was in my own bed and my memories of the Doctor were only a dream. But bit by bit the differences between the room I was in and my own bedroom began to intrude. The lighting was all wrong for starters and there was a constant hum in the background that I eventually identified as the ship itself... herself?

Finally fully aware, I sat up and searched the room for a clock to get some indication of how long I'd slept. Finding none, I jumped up from the bed and started to get dressed, excited by the prospects of the day. It could have been only two hours or it could have been ten, but I felt more rested than I had in a long time, so I knew I'd needed the sleep.

An open door caught my eye before I'd pulled on my jeans almost as though it had appeared just in that moment. It was an en suite with a large walk-in shower that beckoned me. It wasn't until I was under the water that I remembered I didn't have anything clean to put on when I got out. Not that the t-shirt and jeans I'd put on after my hurried shower the night before were dirty, per se, but new John Smith getting ready to set foot on a new planet deserved new clothes.

I got out and dried myself. Then, affixing the towel around my waist I walked out of my room and back down the corridor. The Doctor was there, leaning against the railing that ran around the raised center of the room. She was studying what looked suspiciously like a computer monitor, but from where I was standing I couldn't see the display. Her thumbs were hooked in her front pockets, her hips at a slight angle to the rest of her body, and the whole pose would have been casual if not for the firm set of her lips.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

She cleared the information from the monitor with a swipe of her hand in front of it, only a tiny part of the motion that ended with her facing me fully. "OH!" she gasped when she got a look at me. Her hand flew up to cover her eyes, sliding down a second later to rest over her mouth. She was trying to hide it, but I could see the corners of her mouth turning upward. Her eyes danced with amusement.

"Um, John?" she said around her fingers. She was looking. Really looking, not politely avoiding the parts of me that would have been covered if I was properly clothed. There was a definite hint of what I hoped was appreciation in her gaze. Not bad for a skinny bloke from Chiswick with no A-levels. "Fancy putting on a shirt? Or some trousers or maybe both?"

"Right, yes," I replied looking down at myself. "I can't travel through time and space in a towel."

Her hand dropped back to her waist as she gave up trying to hide her amusement. "Well, you could give it a go. It worked for Arthur Dent."

"Arthur -- you're joking."

She nodded sagely. "Very attached to his towel, Arthur Dent."

I shook my head, unable to tell if she was joking or if there had actually been an Arthur Dent. From the teasing set of her lips, I assumed I would not be getting a straight answer from her if I pushed, so I didn't. "Actually, there's a reason I'm in a towel. I, uh, didn't think to pack any clothes."

"Did you open the wardrobe in your room?"

"Well, no."

"Anything you need the TARDIS will provide."

"Anything?"

She nodded. "Just think about what you want and she'll see to your needs. And, John," she added when I walked away, "meet me in the infirmary once you're dressed."

I'd tried not to think on it, but it had been too much to hope she wouldn't comment on the bruise on my shoulder what with me strutting around her ship without any clothes on.

A few minutes later I walked back into the console room wearing a brand new pair of jeans and t-shirt courtesy of the TARDIS. The Doctor, however, was nowhere to be found.

Well, it had worked before. "TARDIS, I need to find the infirmary."

The first light in the corridor on the other side of the console room began to blink. There was a door just on the other side of the light, barely out of sight from where I'd been standing in the console room. Beside the door was a large picture window revealing exam tables and medical equipment inside as well as the Doctor puttering around.

She looked up when I opened the door and gestured me to one of the exam tables. "Have a seat."

As I hopped up onto the table, I noted there was already a tray beside it which was filled with various alien-looking devices - though, I'd always been very healthy, it was possible some of them were of Earth origin and I just didn't recognize them. The Doctor came forward and picked up a device that looked like a barcode scanner.

She must have seen the apprehension in my expression. "It's a dermal regenerator," she said, pressing a button and running it once over the back of her own hand. There was a whirring sound and her hand was bathed in a red light. "See? Painless."

"Okay."

She blinked at me once and then twice while I waited for her to begin, but she never moved. Eventually I got the hint and her lips quirked as I apologized and stripped my shirt off. "Sorry," I said again when I dropped the shirt on the exam table beside me then turned to face her fully.

The Doctor leaned forward, dermal regenerator in hand. She touched the edges of the bruise gently with the tips of her fingers. I winced once or twice, but tried my best to remain stoic, a difficult prospect at best between the pain and her nearness. I was half naked and she was only inches away from me, her peach-colored lips pursed in displeasure at the damage I'd done to myself when I'd slammed into the wooden doll.

There was no pain as she dragged the red light over my skin once and then twice, the angry purple fading to a sickly green color before she'd even finished the second pass. "So, are you an actual doctor, then?" I asked, mostly from a need distract myself from the feeling of her fingers repeatedly sliding over my skin. Despite her near clinical detachment, my reaction to her hadn't been this strong when I'd been walking around in nothing but a towel.

"Among other things, I am a medical doctor, yes. I'm qualified to treat humanoids, T'agne, and a small subspecies of Fairy called the LaeLeyae."

"What other things?"

She hummed inquisitively as she passed the red light over my shoulder a third time.

"You said 'among other things'."

"Oh." Her nose scrunched up. "Just things."

"Like what?" I pressed.

Her eyes met mine over the dermal regenerator. "Astrophysics, astronomy, mathematics," she looked back down at my shoulder, "law, philosophy, several languages. Those are just some of the Human ones."

Just some of the Human ones, indicating that there were more Human ones and possibly some alien ones in addition to those she'd already listed. I was really starting to understand Granddad's warnings about regret.

She put the dermal regenerator down and leaned even closer to my shoulder to inspect the progress. Abruptly, she straightened and took two quick steps away from me.

"Doctor?"

She looked up at the ceiling and muttered something in a lyrical language. The TARDIS' lights dimmed slightly. When the Doctor finally met my eyes again she seemed closed off. "It's very easy to operate," she said, nodding at the dermal regenerator, but deliberately not coming any closer to me. "Press the button, pass it slowly over the damaged area. Once or twice more and you should be as good as new. I have some... maintenance I need to take care of."

With a few quick strides, she was gone from the infirmary and I was left reeling from her departure. I didn't know what had just happened and, going over the last few minutes, I could think of nothing I'd said or done that would have caused her to react that way. _Alien,_ I reminded myself, for all that she looked Human. Typically I had enough difficulties understanding females of my own species.

I picked up the dermal regenerator, trying my best to put it out of my mind. It could have been anything, possibly something not even relating to me or my injury, though I was finding that difficult to believe.

When I was done with my shoulder I stepped back into the corridor. The console room was to the right, but I looked to the left, itching with the desire to explore. But as I moved to take a step in that direction I felt a wrongness in the back of my mind. Okay, I reasoned, the ship clearly did not want me going that way.

The Doctor was not in the console room, so I continued through it to the bedroom I'd chosen. There was nothing for me to do except wait for us to arrive in New New York, but idleness had never been my strong suit. So, I ended up pacing. And, as usual when I paced, I talked to myself.

"...time traveling spaceship with an amazing woman and all I really want is for her to like me. What does that say about me?" I looked up at the ceiling, "I don't suppose you could give me any pointers?"

With no warning at all, a folded red gingham blanket appeared on my bed.

"A picnic blanket? Seriously? All of space and time at her disposal and you're suggesting a picnic?" There was a tickle in the back of my mind but nothing that I could identify as a positive or negative response. So, assuming the TARDIS would know its pilot better than I would, I went along with it. "All right. A proper picnic then: tea, definitely, and some nibbles. I want her to like me, so it doesn't have to be something I'd recognize, if it's something she'll like."

After a few seconds a backpack appeared with a muffled thump. "Thank you!" I pulled open the bag and did little more than count containers before shoving the blanket on top of the food and zipping it back up again.

The Doctor looked at me oddly when I met her in the console room with the backpack on my back, but all she said was, "Ready?"

"Absolutely."

"Then hang on, John Smith." She slammed a button on the console.

Grabbing the nearest railing, I laughed as the TARDIS began to shudder around me. The ship could have been falling apart for all I knew, but I didn't care. I was full of hope and the prospect of adventure and nothing could detract from it.

Then, with one great _crash_ everything stopped, knocking me off of my feet. As I scrambled to get up, I saw the Doctor had fallen as well, and she was laughing as though it was the funniest thing imaginable. I offered her my hand and she allowed me to help her up. "Nice landing," I said dryly.

"I thought so!" she replied still full of merriment. Then, she stilled and gestured at the door. "Outside of that door is an alien planet, John Smith. Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I think I've been ready for this my whole life."

She smiled again, brilliantly, and offered me her hand. "Then let's go."

We walked down the ramp together, but she stopped and gestured that I should go first. My heart thudding in my chest, I opened the door and stepped out onto an alien planet.

The ship was parked on a small hill overlooking a lake. There was a slight breeze and the temperature was perfect. It was the ideal picnic spot, and I wondered if the TARDIS had something to do with choosing the location.

Pushing a lock of hair back from her face, the Doctor surveyed the area. "It's the year four billion nine hundred eight-five thousand two hundred and twenty three... we're in the galaxy M87, and this... this is New Earth."

"New Earth," I repeated. "And New New York."

"Well, technically it's the fifteenth New York, so it's actually New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New York."

She rattled them off so quickly that I lost track shortly after the seventh or eighth 'New' so I had no idea if she'd actually said them all.

The Doctor extended her hand between us again, "Come on, John Smith, we've got a groundbreaking to witness."

But instead of taking her hand, I slid the backpack off of my shoulder and opened it, pulling out the blanket. "I thought maybe we could have lunch first." With a flick of my wrists I opened the blanket and let it float to the ground, perfect on the first try.

I sat down and patted the blanket. "Have a seat, Doctor."

"I said that we could go anywhere at anytime and do whatever you liked... and you chose to have a picnic?"

"A picnic on an alien planet! How many people can say that they've had a cup of tea on New Earth?"

But as I started taking containers out of the backpack, I saw that the TARDIS had taken my request for food literally. I didn't recognize more than two dishes.

After I laid the last container on the blanket, I gestured again that the Doctor should sit.

"We're going to miss the groundbreaking," she protested weakly.

"Come on, Doctor, you pilot a time machine, we can always come back another time." The words spilled out of my mouth unfiltered. Then I remembered; she'd promised me one trip and this was it. There wouldn't be another time. Not for me, at least. To cover my gaff I picked up a small ball that looked like a fried mushroom.

"Don't eat those." The Doctor said sharply when I had it halfway to my mouth.

I pulled it away from my mouth like it was something poisonous - because, for all I knew, it was - and put it back in the container. "Is it..."

But she was actually looking at the food I'd put out for the first time as she sat down across from me. "John, what exactly did you ask the TARDIS for?"

"Foods that you would like."

"Those weren't your exact words."

"No," I admitted reluctantly, "they weren't."

She grinned lopsidedly. "My ship likes you, John Smith."

I didn't understand, but before I could ask her to clarify, she closed her eyes. If it was true that the TARDIS liked me, why would it have given me food I couldn't eat? When she opened her eyes again, there was a sadness that had not been there before. "There's a proper hamper just inside the door."

I fetched the hamper and was relieved when I opened it to see that all of the food was of Earth origin.

"So," I said as I unpacked the hamper, "tell me about Time Lord-atania."

"What?"

"Time Lord-atropolis?" I tried again.

She giggled and popped one of the not-mushrooms into her mouth. Apparently whatever they were, they weren't a problem for Time Lords. "Why would I want to talk about my home when I still have so much to learn about you?"

"Me? I'm nobody," I said reflexively before I could stop myself.

"I don't believe that. Everyone has a story, everyone is someone. Go on then, one fact. Something that maybe you don't tell everyone."

To stall for time I picked up a sandwich and took a bite. As I chewed I realized that there was one thing I wanted to tell her, the idea of doing so felt like unburdening myself from a weight I'd carried far too long. "Donna," I said. "Her name was Donna."

"You said you'd never married," the Doctor replied cautiously. "A girlfriend, then?"

"No," I laughed sadly. "A sister. My twin."

"Oh, John."

The sympathy in her voice was immediate and I straightened, putting down the sandwich, the taste of it suddenly like ash in my mouth. "I was spending the night at a friend's, she and my parents were going out for dinner. There was an accident. I didn't even find out until the next morning. My parents went first, at the scene, Donna in the ambulance on the way to the A&E."

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen. She was so brash, we were constantly clashing. I never thought I would miss her so much until she was gone. I always envied her hair, though. She had such interesting hair. I wanted to be ginger like her so badly, I thought it would make me interesting, too."

"I think you're interesting, John Smith," she said quietly.

As I tried to formulate a response around the lump that had settled in my throat, a cry drew our attention an instant before a young girl reached the top of the hill. She was stumbling forward blindly, her eyes riveted on something behind her. She was wearing a long white dress which bore evidence of her difficult flight; it was ripped in two places and covered in grass stains. Her path was going to take her right through where we sat, but that bothered me far less than the thunderous approach of several engines which followed her.

I was up before I even realized I'd decided to move, bounding over the array of dishes from the backpack which were laid out in a rough semi-circle around the Doctor. Two steps later I caught the girl as she stumbled in a patch of uneven ground. She cried out in fear, struggling to break my hold on her, so I held her lightly as I tried to soothe her.

"It's all right. I've got you."

The engines turned out to belong to large hovering motorcycles, and there were seven of them. The one closest to the front drove right up to me unapologetically, stopping mere inches from where I stood. The rider was wearing a large leather jacket with gloves and riding goggles. "Thank you for stopping her," he said, pushing the goggles up to rest on the top of his head. "Now hand her over."

I felt my jaw drop as I got my first look at him. He was a cat, nearly two meters tall as best I could tell, with pale orange tabby stripes, pointed ears, a pink nose, and whiskers. As my eyes flitted over the other riders taking off their gear, I saw that they were all cats. I looked down at the girl in my arms. She was lovely, for a cat, tortoise shell-and-white fur, large golden eyes. Terrified large golden eyes. "Why?" I asked, wrapping my arms around the little cat-girl's shoulders. She didn't even reach my navel, I guessed she was about five or six years old.

She also appeared to have decided that I was not a threat, and her little arms came up around my waist.

"It is none of your concern."

I stood on an alien planet, having placed myself between seven cat-men on motorcycles and a scared child. There were any number of reasons why this was not a good idea, but as she trembled and drew herself even closer to me in response to the sound of her pursuer's voice, I knew that there was no other choice. "I'm making it my concern."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt a hand on my back, firm but reassuring, and I looked down into the Doctor's proud eyes.

"See?" she said, smiling up at me. "Interesting." She held my gaze a moment longer then looked at the cat-men, her face slipping into a mask that was all business. She went on as though she had every right to insert herself as mediator. "Gentlemen, I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. If you could just tell us why you want the girl we can all go our separate ways."

The cat-man let out a long-suffering sigh. "The kit is to be honored at dinner tonight ahead of the Heylel ceremony tomorrow morning."

I looked down at the girl, intent on saying something reassuring when the Doctor's words cut through me.

"It's a sacrifice."

"It is an honor," he stressed tersely.

"It's barbaric," I spat. Dimly, I became aware that the girl's shoulders were shaking. I lifted her up in my arms, pillowing her head on my shoulder.

"Your opinions mean nothing." He gestured to the other cat-men who began dismounting. "The kit will return with us."

I tensed, already calculating the distance back to the TARDIS and wondering if I could outrun six descendants of Felis domesticus.

"Of course she will," the Doctor replied, stopping me from fleeing. "And we'll return with her."

The cat-man sighed again, but gestured again to the others who returned to their motorcycles. One of the riders took off immediately back the way they'd come, but the others only stared at us.

"You'll forgive me if I don't offer you a ride," the leader said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Of course," the Doctor replied graciously. "Love a bit of exercise, me."

With a deafening roar, the motorcycles began powering back up again, moving slowly into a rough circle surrounding us. As soon as the last one was in place, the leader turned his bike and we began walking.

They stayed in formation in a large circle around us. There was no need for them to be close, so while they were near and the noise was loud, we could still talk.

"That was a good thing you did back there," she said. "A lot of people wouldn't have bothered."

"It was the right thing to do."

"Yeah, but you did it."

"How did you know it was a sacrifice?"

"Heylel is a very old word in your culture, John Smith. It means 'morning star,' and typically refers to the entity you would call Satan. And though there are many examples of fertility rites occurring in conjunction with the rising of the morning star, I'm surprised to find one here. Catkind have not historically participated in ritual sacrifices."

"Maybe this is a rogue offshoot branch?"

She smiled in a way I suspect was supposed to be reassuring.

I wanted to ask her if the girl would be all right, if we would be able to prevent this from happening, but she was still snuggled on my shoulder and I didn't want her to hear that conversation.

We lapsed into silence and after a few minutes we caught our first glimpse of the city we were approaching. I felt an odd sort of disappointment at its utter normalcy. There were no towering spirals, no elaborate spaceports with vessels in the midst of take-offs or landings, no distinctly alien architecture. My first, and probably the only, alien city I would ever see - because I was sure by now that we'd missed the groundbreaking of New New York - and it looked vaguely like an English fishing village.

The riders lead us through the center of the city, the noise drawing the curious to their windows and gardens to watch our passage. There were cats of every color, old cats and young, entire families - I felt like I'd stepped into an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.

When we got to a small church, the riders stopped and dismounted, their leader indicating roughly that we should follow him. He then entered the church, unconcerned if we would heed him, as there were still five others to guarantee that we would.

There was another cat-man standing at the top of a raised dais on the far end of the room, summoned, I assumed, by the rider who had arrived before us. He was stern-faced and white save for a patch of gray fur on his forehead. His blue-gray eyes were hard as he watched us cross the room to meet him.

"What do we have here, Kuruk?" he said to the cat-man ahead of us.

"Visitors. They captured the kit for us, but then refused to hand her over."

"We didn't capture the kit --" I started, but the Doctor's hand on my arm stopped my outburst.

The cat-man named Kuruk gestured at me as if to say "See what I mean?" and the other bared his teeth in a way that distinctly unsettled me. Then, just as he looked like he was about to say something, a third cat-man entered the room, leaning heavily on a cane, his once-black fur streaked with gray.

Kuruk deferred to the older cat, bowing shallowly at the waist. The other cat-man only watched his progression across the room. It was an agonizing few minutes that we stood at an impasse, culminating in the old cat stopping before the Doctor and bowing to her with more reverence than he himself had been shown.

He teetered a bit as he tried to stand and the Doctor immediately moved to help him. "Thank you, Kurau."

Both of the other cat-men inhaled as one and the Doctor's gaze slid cautiously from one to the other. "I'm afraid you must have me confused with someone else."

"There is no mistake, Kurau. You are the dead returned, are you not?"

Though the question made no sense to me, I could tell that it had startled the Doctor. She gestured between them. "I'm sorry, have we met? I don't always meet people in the right order."

"I am Naruuk. And no, we have never met before, but your arrival has been foretold." Then his rheumy eyes turned to me. "And that you would be accompanied by your Skidi."

Kuruk shifted uncomfortably, the motion moving him half a step away from me.

"Um, excuse me," I asked, "'Skidi'?"

Naruuk moved closer so that he could study me. "Yes." Then he looked back over his shoulder at the Doctor. "Though perhaps not yet."

"What does that mean?" I asked, but he didn't answer me. "Doctor?"

"It's all right, John."

Naruuk smiled benignly. He thumped his cane on the floor. "Come. I am an old man and I have stood long enough for now."

As we started to follow him, Kuruk moved to intercept me. "I'll take the kit."

My arms tightened around her, "Actually, I don't think you will."

The Doctor moved between us. "You don't need her until dinner tonight, right? So there's no harm in her staying with us until then."

He struck out suddenly, his paw grasping ahold of the Doctor's arm, his teeth exposed in a vicious snarl. "She --"

But the heel of my hand connecting with the center of his chest stole his breath, silencing him. I'd never considered myself a violent person before, but that made twice in two days I'd physically defended the Doctor. "Take your paws off of her."

"I would listen to the Skidi," Naruuk said, looking very pleased with himself.

Once again, that word had a visible effect on Kuruk. He lifted his paws into the air and took a step back from us.

"It's not like we're going anywhere," the Doctor offered, adding sharply, "Besides, you'd just chase us down if we did."

We followed after Naruuk back the way he'd come and down a long corridor to a room no larger than a monk's cell. It was furnished simply, with only a small bed, nightstand, and a single chair, but it was the bookshelves that were really impressive. They covered every available bit of wall space, with books of all shapes and sizes stacked in some places three and four deep.

The Doctor's voice drew my attention from my examination of the shelves. "Where are all of the children?"

Naruuk's eyes twinkled. "I knew I was right about you, Kurau."

"Children?" I asked, looking down at the girl I held.

"How old is she?" the Doctor asked by way of answering. "Six?"

"Six," the old cat-man confirmed with a nod.

"Yet we were paraded down a major thoroughfare into the center of town and we didn't see one single child younger than her."

Had we? I tried to think back. There had been children, yes, but now that I thought about it, there had been no babies. "There weren't any older than her, either. I mean, adults, yeah, but not eight, nine, or ten years old."

"Or eleven or twelve," Naruuk agreed.

"But thirteen?" the Doctor asked.

Naruuk nodded.

"Seven years. Why seven years?"

"No one knows. But it has not always been this way. When my grandfather was Kurahus there were children of all ages. Laughter rang throughout the streets. But no longer. The Heylel ceremony tomorrow morning will guarantee fertility for one year. The very fortunate will manage two litters in that time."

"And then nothing for another seven years?"

"That is correct." He indicated the girl, "Naira's parents were of the fortunate ones. She's one of the youngest kits we have."

I was watching their conversation like a tennis match, but I spoke up when something occurred to me. "Can a society survive like that?"

The Doctor nodded. "For a society like catkind where births of multiples are common, yes, for a while. But you've already started to see a decline, haven't you?"

"Yes. But there is an additional problem. As time passed, young adults became more and more reluctant to search for mates outside of their age range, now many are choosing never to mate at all rather than be bound by these rules. There are perhaps thirty couples anticipating the results of the ceremony tomorrow."

"No, no, no," the Doctor muttered, pacing the room. "This is not right."

"Doctor?"

"It's not right," she insisted and then whirled back towards Naruuk. "Your grandfather's time, you said. Exactly how long has this been going on?"

"Eighty years, at least."

"Eighty years?" She did some quick mental calculations. "Catkind are supposed to survive for millennia, but at this rate they'll die out within a few centuries."

"But what can we do?"

The Doctor stopped, her whole body becoming preternaturally still. A smile worked its way across her face. "John Smith, I am so glad you asked."

Twenty minutes later we found ourselves at the front desk of a clinic.

"Oh, hello. I'm the Doctor and this is my associate John Smith. We were hoping to visit your absolutely lovely facilities."

The receptionist barely looked up. "This is really not the time, I'm afraid. With the ceremony tomorrow, we're in final preparation for the upcoming influx of patients."

"I think you'll find we're expected." Like a DI introducing herself, the Doctor took a small wallet out of her pocket, opened it one-handed, and flashed it at the receptionist, putting it away again before I could catch a glimpse of what was written on it.

"Yes, of course. I'm so sorry, Doctor, in the midst of everything else it must have slipped my mind. Let me..." She picked up a phone and requested the assistance of an orderly.

"What did you show her?" I whispered when we moved a bit away from the desk to wait.

"Our invitation."

"We don't have an invitation."

The Doctor's brow furrowed in confusion. "No, I'm sure that's not right." She pulled the wallet out of her pocket again and looked at it. "I thought so. See, it says so right here: I'm a fertility specialist and you're a scientist looking to develop new methods of preserving embryos. Just look at all of those letters behind your name."

She handed the wallet to me. Printed inside was an invitation made out to The Doctor and John Smith - and, wow, that really was a lot of letters behind my name - offering us an opportunity to visit the hospital in order to further our study. "How did you get this?"

"It's psychic paper," she replied, taking the wallet from me and closing it. She opened it again and handed it back to me. "Tells the reader what I want them to see."

The invitation had disappeared. In its place was now a shopping list, letting me know that the TARDIS was running low on milk and that a new helmic regulator wouldn't go amiss if the Doctor happened upon one. "How do you do that?"

"Psychic," she replied.

I waved the wallet, "Could I..."

"Probably not. Humans typically don't register very high on the Rongir scale."

"Oh."

The Doctor took the wallet from me and put it back in her pocket as a gray-furred cat-man approached us.

"Please, if you will follow me."

We were lead into the hospital proper and through a set of double doors with the word Obstetrics emblazoned across them. The orderly brought us to a small laboratory and introduced us to the head of the department, a middle-aged calico by the name of Nahuel who looked anything but pleased to see us.

"'Doctor' was it?" he said after the orderly had left.

"That's right," she replied, offering her hand.

"Just Doctor?"

She nodded. "And my associate, John Smith."

The cat-man shook my hand as well.

"I must confess your visit is a bit unexpected."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure my office confirmed..."

"Yes, of course, I'm sure it just got lost in the shuffle with the chaos of the ceremony tomorrow. I'll help you as best I can, but you must forgive me if I am needed elsewhere."

"Naturally. We are only here to observe and assist if needed."

"Thank you, Doctor. Where would you like to begin?"

"Why don't you tell us what you know about the phenomenon that's causing the birth rate to drop?"

"Well, first, it hasn't just dropped, it's ceased entirely. Until tomorrow, that is. Remarkably fascinating. No one knows how it started, but it had probably been going on for more than a year before anyone noticed. I wasn't here then, of course, but my predecessor's notes are quite extensive."

"And nothing remarkable happened at the time? No environmental shifts or unusual occurrences?"

"No, nothing."

A nurse walked up and showed Nahuel some papers attached to a clipboard. He hummed thoughtfully as he looked them over.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment with an apologetic smile. "I must see to this."

"Certainly."

The instant he was gone, the Doctor hurried to a computer in the corner.

"John, watch the door."

I moved closer to the door, looking out of the small rectangular window to the corridor beyond. "All clear, Doctor."

She pulled something the size of a large pen out of her pocket and fiddled with it for a second before pointing it at the monitor. The tip of the pen glowed blue and a whistling sound filled the air.

"What is that thing?"

"My screwdriver! I built a new one."

"What does it do?"

"What _doesn't_ it do!" she shot back, obviously pleased with herself, as words started flying across the screen.

I was too far away and the information was moving too fast for me to read, but my guess was that it had to be medical records. The Doctor seemed to have no trouble keeping up, and she made a series of hums and inquisitive noises as she read. When the data finally stopped streaming and a prompt appeared, she typed furiously into the keyboard.

She typed again a moment later, a brief noise of disgust escaping her at whatever response she received to her query, and then she was on the move again, pacing once around the laboratory while muttering to herself. Sitting back down at the computer, she began to type a third time and when she didn't receive the response she wanted, she took out her screwdriver and pointed it at the computer again.

A few minutes later, she put the screwdriver away again and closed out of whatever she had been looking at.

"What did you find?" I asked when she stepped away from the computer.

"Eighty years of women being admitted with stomach cramps, nausea, and breast tenderness."

I looked back at her, my brow furrowing in confusion. "Doctor, I know I'm not an expert or anything, but those sound like symptoms of pregnancy."

"Right in one, John Smith. So, if that's the case, then...?"

"If that's the case, then... the women are getting pregnant on their own?"

Her amber eyes flashed. "Very good. And since none of those 'unsanctioned' pregnancies go full-term, then...?"

"Someone must be tampering with the pregnancies."

She tapped the side of her nose.

"But who? Why?"

"That's what we have to find out." She stretched her hand out between us and I slipped my fingers between hers.

I don't know what excuses we would have made to Nahuel if we had encountered him on our way out of the clinic, but thankfully I didn't have to find out. The Doctor lead me to the edge of the village and only then did I realize where we were going.

"Back to the TARDIS? But why?"

"Because there are scans I can only run from there."

When we crested the hill where the TARDIS stood, I saw the remains of our picnic still laid out beside it. As much as I wanted to help the catkind, I still felt a pang of remorse that our picnic had been cut short. The Doctor had made it clear that I would only get one trip with her, and I'd hoped to get to know her better during that brief time. Though we'd accomplished neither of our goals for this trip, I sensed our time together was coming to an end.

I squeezed her hand. "You go on inside and do what you need to do. I'll clean up this mess."

After taking my time repacking the picnic, I stood, slinging the backpack onto my back and picking up the hamper, and then pushed the TARDIS' door open. The Doctor was flitting from one end of the center console to the other, but as I watched she stopped abruptly at the monitor to read the display.

With a triumphant A-HA! she spun completely around, coming to rest facing the monitor again.

"What did you find?" I asked, dropping both the hamper and the backpack just inside the door.

"A ship. In orbit. Not around the planet, of course, that'd be too obvious. On the other side of one of the moons."

"What kind of ship?"

"Hard to tell at first glance. But I've narrowed it down, and it's _definitely_ not from around here."

"All right. But how does this help us?"

"Well, using the location of the ship I can trace signals to and from the village." She pressed a series of buttons and a map replaced the solar chart we'd been looking at. With a few touches reminiscent of zooming in on a cell phone, she centered the map over the catkind village. There was a large red dot near the center of town directly above one of the buildings.

"Is that the clinic?"

"You were expecting maybe the Post Office?"

I scowled at her, but she grinned teasingly back at me.

"I meant that we were just there."

"We were. And this --" she pointed at the red dot "-- indicates transmissions... teleports."

"Teleports?" I scowled again, but this time not at her. "You mean they're taking the fertilized eggs?"

"I mean exactly that."

"But why?"

"Could be any number of reasons. The 'how' is ultimately not that important though. We just need to figure out the 'who' and stop them." She offered me her arm. "John Smith, would you like to join me for dinner?"

"Dinner? We don't have time for --" But then I realized. "The ceremony? You're kidding."

Her eyes twinkled. "'Course not. It'll be fun. When you reveal the bad guy in front of an entire population the resulting monologues are great."

I couldn't help but laugh. "How will we know who it is?"

She pulled her sonic screwdriver out of her pocket and flipped it expertly with one hand. "Now that I have the frequency of the ship I should be able to identify whomever has come in contact with it."

Instead of taking her arm, I offered her mine and she wrapped her arm around my bicep. "Doctor, I would love to."

It had been late morning when we'd arrived on New Earth, but our aborted picnic and subsequent visit to the catkind village had taken us all the way to late afternoon. But by the time we made our way back to Naruuk's chambers dinner was only about an hour away.

I was pleased to see that Naira was getting some sleep, tucked in the corner of Naruuk's bed where it butted against the wall.

"We will be able to save her, won't we?" I asked quietly.

"Of course we will, the dinner tonight is a very civil affair, and we'll have everything sorted long before morning." She looked at Naira's sleeping form. "I need a few minutes to program the sonic, but then we can go."

She walked away - as 'away' as one could get in a six by six room - and focused on her screwdriver.

In her absence, Naruuk sidled up beside me. "Something troubles you, Skidi."

It both was and wasn't a question. As much as I wanted to talk about the Doctor with someone who seemed to know about her, it didn't seem right, and I was reasonably sure she wasn't far enough away for any such conversation to be private. "I'm just worried about what's going to happen tonight," I deflected. "And why do you keep calling me Skidi?"

"You are skidi: your loyalty and your adventure but most especially your compassion. You are her totem, her heart."

"Her? The Doctor?" My eyes drifted over to where she stood, so much for not talking about her where she could overhear.

Naruuk nodded.

"I've only known her two days."

"She tries to be alone, to pay penance for what she has done. You must remind her of the strength of companionship."

"But if you call me Skidi because of the Doctor, why is that other cat-man bothered so much by it?"

"Kuruk fears the choices you will force him to make. But do not worry about him. You are his challenge, but he is not yours. Trust your instincts."

"Choices? What choices?"

But no sooner had Naruuk finished speaking when there was a knock at the door, drowning out my question.

"I've come for the kit," came Kuruk's voice through the heavy wood.

I looked over to see that Naira was now sitting up on the bed, her face drawn in sadness. Crossing the room, I opened the door myself. Kuruk's eyes flashed dangerously when he saw me.

"You must know this is wrong."

"This is the way things are."

"Then change them."

His whiskers twitched. "Come along, Naira."

"Yes, Papa." She climbed down from the bed.

My stomach twisted. "You're her father? And you're just willing to let them have her?"

"It is an honor to be chosen," he spat, repeating his earlier argument.

But my response was the same as well, "It. Is. Barbaric. A father should protect his children with his own life if necessary. Yet you're going to give her up, your youngest child, never see her smile or hear her laughter again."

Naira arrived at her father's side and slipped her tiny paw into his. He looked down at her, his stony expression softening for a moment.

"Don't do this," I pleaded.

He looked back up at me, his mask falling back into place. "I have to."

Squeezing her hand in silent command, Kuruk turned away from the door and Naira followed. I watched them go, frustration welling within me.

The Doctor came up beside me and laid her hand on my arm. "It will be all right, John. We'll fix it."

"If they are calling for Naira, the dinner is about to begin," Naruuk said.

The Doctor looked at me again in silent reassurance. "Then let's go."

We followed the parade of Catkind into an outdoor auditorium where we were given a place of honor, a hastily erected table near a dais at the front.

Food was already laid out on the tables and my stomach growled as if to remind me that I hadn't eaten since our aborted lunch. Remembering the not-mushrooms, I turned to the Doctor. "I'm starving, can I eat any of this?"

She perused the offerings and nodded. "Everything but the red one."

I served myself from the three remaining dishes and took a bite of something that vaguely resembled a cannoli. But it was gooey and chewy and tasted a bit like day-old eggs. It took everything in my power not to spit it back out.

After taking a giant draught of my water I held up the 'food' for the Doctor's inspection. "What is this?"

She took it from me and sniffed it before taking a small bite. "Gole."

"And what is that when it's at home?"

"It's quite brilliant, actually, it's a –-" She scrunched up her nose. "On second thought, you probably don't want to know." She placed the gole back onto my plate.

"You said I could eat it."

"I said you could. I didn't say you'd want to."

"Doctor, is there anything here I'd actually consider edible?"

She looked over the contents of my plate. "Probably not, no."

"Great."

At that moment a gong sounded and the pervasive din that had surrounded us quieted. Nahuel, seated in the center of the dais, stood and called for attention.

"Friends, we come together to celebrate the Ascent of Heylel, for renewal and reaffirmation of ourselves as a people."

As he talked about the benefits the society would receive following the ceremony, I turned my attention to the Doctor, who was looking down at the sonic screwdriver in her lap.

"Did you find something?" I whispered.

"It's Nahuel."

"What, really?"

She looked up at the cat-man. "It appears so."

"How are we going to stop him?"

"Watch," she replied, nodding in the direction of the dais.

"And now, the offering of a kit --"

"No," a voice boomed out. All around the assembly people cried out in shock.

"Excuse me?"

Kuruk stood from his seat on the left side of the dais. "You can't have her."

"But we have to."

"What kind of society are we if we give up our children?"

"A society that survives. It's only one, one child for the greater good."

"Well, choose another one; you can't have this one."

As Nahuel blinked in surprise, Naira jumped up and wrapped her arms around her father's waist. Kuruk slid his arm around her shoulders and when his eyes found me I nodded my approval.

Nahuel was slowly regaining his momentum. "Will there be nothing more of us then? Our entire species never to be renewed again?"

The Doctor stood and I stood beside her. "I imagine that would be very inconvenient for you, wouldn't it, Nahuel?"

"You," he spat, turning towards us. "You've done this somehow."

"If by 'this' you mean I made the suggestion that this isn't the way things have to be, then, yes, I've definitely done that. But what you've done to them is much worse." She aimed her screwdriver at Nahuel. "You know, it's a really brilliant disguise, almost perfect, in fact. Had me fooled, even, and that's saying something."

"What are you --"

"It's just very unfortunate for you that I happen to be rather brilliant myself. Shimmer." The tip of the screwdriver glowed blue and once again I heard the whistle. The cat-man seemed to fuzz for a moment before morphing into a tall, similarly colored creature.

It was my first alien-looking alien. I'd never seen anything like it. It had skin so thick it could only be called hide, its eyes were small and misshapen, its nose wide and elongated - I couldn't see anything that resembled ears.

The catkind surrounding us inhaled as one. One elderly cat-woman in the front rows collapsed in a dead faint and at least one other screamed in horror.

That was as long as it took for the alien to realize what had happened. "Trickery!" he shouted, looking down at himself. "What have you done to me?"

Some of the other dignitaries on the dais began to move away from the creature that had been Nahuel.

"Simply turned off your shimmer device. Very clever, by the way, masquerading as one of them. They'd trust one of their own, but you, you're something else entirely."

He turned from right to left trying to gather his supporters. "This deceiver has done something to me. I am still Nahuel. You know me."

"Um, Doctor," I whispered, "that alien is speaking English."

" _That alien_ ," she hissed back, "is speaking Qerrassan."

"No, Doctor, I'm pretty sure that's English."

"You Humans are so self-centered," she replied conversationally. "The universe doesn't revolve around you, you know. The catkind were 'speaking English' and you didn't even bat an eye because their species originated on Earth, but just because he doesn't look like something you recognize it's suddenly an oddity. He's speaking Qerrassan. You only hear English because the TARDIS is translating for you."

The creature that had been Nahuel was watching our exchange, but almost before the Doctor finished speaking he barked at us. "Be silent."

The Doctor turned to the creature. "Oh, go _ihtih o irao aeahii_."

I started upon hearing the unfamiliar words coming from her lips. It was only the second time she'd spoken something I couldn't understand. "What was that?"

She blushed as the creature visibly fumed. "Qerrassan. The TARDIS is a bit of a prude. What I said wasn't particularly nice, so it's not something you should be repeating, John Smith."

"Really?" I gestured at the alien. "That to deal with and a civilization to save, and the TARDIS is concerned about me picking up a new colorful phrase?"

The Doctor laughed, a hearty HA!, the corners of her eyes crinkling and I laughed right along with her, our concerns for the moment forgotten.

And then she straightened, turning her attention back to Nahuel. I watched her, fire flashing in her eyes, standing strong as she prepared to truly confront the menace we'd discovered, and I realized that my initial attraction to her was not nearly so simple. Perhaps it was in part Naruuk's talk of totems and hearts, and perhaps it was simply the fact that she was utterly magnificent, but this had the potential to be far more than just _fancying_ her.

"So, I understand what you were doing," she said. "What I don't understand is why."

Nahuel, now alone on the dais, looked back at her murderously.

"Spoil my fun," she muttered under her breath when he said nothing. Then, louder, she added, "You may as well tell me. It's possible I can help."

"How could you possibly help us?"

"You'd be surprised what I'm capable of. What do you need the embryos for?"

"We're dying, _Doctor_. Our entire civilization on the brink of extinction. Genetic tinkering has made it impossible for us to reproduce normally so we took to replicating ourselves. But the cloning process was flawed and over generations traits were lost to us and we stagnated. The catkind are similar enough that with a few tweaks their genetic material can be added to our matrix and used to create new generations of Qerrassa."

Beside me, the Doctor had become more tense with each word Nahuel had spoken. When he stopped speaking she released a tiny exhale.

"I know all too well the problems you are having. But if help you, you have to promise to leave these people alone."

"Wait," I interrupted before Nahuel had a chance to answer. "You're just going to help him? After everything he's done?"

"Helping people is what I do. Look at him, John. He's a scientist, not a megalomaniac. He's not trying to rule this world, he's trying to save his own."

"But you can't let him get away with it."

"I am willing to accept whatever punishment is required for my actions, so long as you help my people." I hadn't even noticed Nahuel stepping down from the dais but now he stood before us, no longer the proud master of ceremonies he had been a few minutes earlier, but humble and hopeful. "Sacrifice one for the good of the many, yes?"

The Doctor's eyes clouded over for a moment. "Sometimes that is necessary."

Naruuk had approached us, too, but until that point had stayed on the outskirts of our conversation. He came forward then and put his hand on Nahuel's arm. With his eyes on the Doctor, he spoke, "I think we should take this elsewhere."

I looked around the room, only realizing that what had started out as terror over the revelation that Nahuel was not who he claimed to be had morphed into anger, the energy around us changing into something unstable.

The Doctor looked around as well. "I will send for the authorities, can you keep him safe until they arrive?"

"How long?"

"A day. Maybe two."

Naruuk nodded. "It will be done."

She turned to Nahuel. "I will go to your ship and tell them what they need to know. You have my word."

"Thank you, Doctor." He said the title with far more respect this time.

"Naruuk, things should go back to normal immediately. I imagine you'll be having a population boom to deal with in the near future."

He smiled. "I look forward to it. Thank you, Kurau. We owe you a great debt."

"You are very welcome."

The Doctor extended her hand to me. "Come on, John."

We split in two directions, Naruuk and Nahuel headed quickly back towards the center of town and the Doctor and I towards the TARDIS. As we climbed the hill for the second time that day, it finally sunk in what we'd accomplished.

"Doctor, we just saved not one but _two_ civilizations from the brink of extinction."

She grinned manically, the tip of her tongue poking out from between her teeth. "Yep!"

"That's amazing."

"It was a good day, John Smith."

"A good day? A _good_ day?" I pulled her to me by our clasped hands and lifted her up in the air. "It's a fantastic day!"

I spun around a few times before putting her feet back on the ground, but my arms stayed around her as we laughed together. Then she looked up at me and before I knew what I was doing, I was closing the distance between us. The kiss landed just off center of her lips, but any hope I had of reciprocation was quashed when she stiffened immediately, and my stomach plummeted all the way to my feet.

"Sorry," I was saying even before I backed away. "Got a little carried away there."

"It's all right. No harm done."

No harm, perhaps, but she was no longer looking me in the eyes either.

She nodded in the direction of the TARDIS. "Let's go."

"Right. Yes. We still have things to do, don't we?"

But the Doctor didn't answer me, waiting until we were inside her ship and she was standing beside the console before speaking again. "Did you want to sleep? It's been a long day."

"What about the Qerrassan ship?"

"I can handle that while you're asleep. It's all going to be boring science talk anyway."

"Ah." That was it, then. Regardless of what I chose, she didn't want me with her for the next step. And no wonder, after that idiotic attempt at a kiss. "Well, no offense to the TARDIS, but I think I'd rather sleep in my own bed tonight."

Her lips set in an unreadable line, she pulled a lever and the column in the center of the console began to move up and down. After a moment there was the definite sensation of us landing, but it was more like a lift reaching the ground floor than the jolting crash of when we'd landed on New Earth.

The Doctor nodded at the door. "Chiswick, London, England, Earth."

"What, really?"

"Best ship in the universe," she reminded me.

When I opened the door I saw that she'd parked the TARDIS in my kitchen. It shouldn't have been possible; there definitely wasn't enough room where she'd put us: between the refrigerator and range. But I'd seen so much already that this didn't even faze me. However, seeing the mugs on the worktop and table, the tea still warm inside, made the events of the day seem more like a dream than reality.

The Doctor stepped out of the ship behind me. "There you are, John Smith, home safe and sound." She'd said the same thing the first time she'd dropped me at my door, after our encounter with the Krun.

The agreement had been one trip, and I'd gotten one trip. I should have felt grateful. It was, after all, far more than anyone else got. Instead I felt only an empty disappointment that she would soon be leaving me behind.

"Thank you," I said, schooling my features as I turned to face her. "This was amazing."

"You weren't so bad yourself, John Smith." She leaned heavily against the TARDIS. "So, this is it, I guess. One trip delivered as promised."

I could only nod.

She straightened and poked me hard in the chest. "Hey, in the future, don't sell yourself short; you are interesting, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Stepping back into the TARDIS, she closed the door behind her. I took a step back because I'd never seen the ship take off and didn't know what to expect.

The door opened abruptly. "Only... Did you want to come with me?"

"You're serious?"

"Unless you'd rather sleep in your own bed tonight," she quipped, and then continued more solemnly after a moment, "If I was to share the universe with anyone, I'd like it to be you."

"I don't know," I teased, because she knew I'd never be able to tell her no. "Is it always like this?"

She smiled. "Yeah."

"Brilliant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the terminology was taken from the Pawnee Indians. I've tried to get everything right, but if there's a mistake, please let me know and I'll change it.


End file.
